


This Is Our Get Along Planet

by rdm2



Series: Iorveth and Roche's Multiverse Roadtrip [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 2nd Conjuction of the Spheres, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medieval Medicine, Medieval style arrow removal, Past Torture, Post-The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Roadtrip through reality, Whump, arrow wounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:13:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27201619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rdm2/pseuds/rdm2
Summary: Iorveth and Roche wake up on a strange planet after the second conjunction of the spheres. To get home they will need to work together. Easier said than done.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Series: Iorveth and Roche's Multiverse Roadtrip [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985806
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	1. Waking up in...?

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the Witcher Rare Pair discord server. You guys inspired me to start writing again.

Roche started awake. “What?” he started to say. He froze midway through staring at everything around him. Where was he? The last thing he remembers was...

He frowned thinking. He was headed towards Vizima, then... that strange portal. The sky had light-up going crazy and a strange portal started to form right in front of his face. He must have not been able to move fast enough to escape it.

And it had brought him, Roche looks around, he honestly doesn’t know where on the continent he was. Or if he even was still on the continent. He was in the middle of a clearing surrounded by strange dark trees, with glowing purple leaves. ‘That’s not a good sign is it’ he thought, getting up.

No birdsong, just an eerie silence, like the whole forest was holding its breath. Roche hesitantly approached the tree line. The trees felt warm and tingled as he approached them. Maybe he should stay put. He hesitated. He wanted to stay put, but on the other hand, he was going to need shelter, and a fire to keep warm and to keep away whatever lived in these woods.

“Well in for a copper in for an Oren,” Roche muttered then snorted, “or a Floren and a mark now I guess.” Stepping past the tree line he froze as the air around him buzzed, then it calmed. An unhappy sound left his throat, but when nothing else happened he slowly made his way through the trees.

While keeping an eye out for threats and an ear for water, he crept his way deeper into the woods. The weird leaves crunch under his boots caused a sickly sweet smell that stuck to the inside of his mouth. He didn’t see anything but the trees, it felt wrong, no birds, no animals, no other trees, no squirrels of any kind, just weird trees and silence. He kept walking.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pain. Iorveth let out a small moan. It felt like his body was burning alive on one of those thrice-cursed pyres. He struggled pushing himself up, before collapsing onto his back instead.  
Immediately he let out a scream of pain. “Estë cadw me,” he gasped, rolling back onto his front he tried to reach backwards to examine his back. Eyes squeezed shut he found three arrows sticking out from his back plus the bloede whip wounds he knew were there.

He had been on a mission for Saskia. Elven refugees headed towards Upper Aedirn were being chased by those pen y carraigh hurtyn with the eternal fire cult. He and a group of his men went out to help escort them to safety. There were more idiots than expected, so he told his men to stay with the refugees then head back, while he distracted them. This wasn’t the first time he had used himself as bait. His head was worth a pretty coin so he figured they would rather chase him.

And it worked. Too well. He wasn’t as familiar with the terrain here and managed to end up cornered in a pass. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. If he was to be caught by a dh’oine it should be by someone like Roche who had actually put effort into it, not these a'baeth arse bloede d'yaebl with fire where their brains should be.

After that, well, what do humans usually do with elves? He was dragged back to camp unconscious, as he would not go peacefully. He would rip each one of their throats out with his teeth before that. And then he was chained to a rack and the torture started. His mind shied from those memories. He did not break. The past was the past, to survive you needed to keep moving. He could contemplate what happened later.

One of the younger fools didn’t chain him properly, and he managed to run. Unfortunately, one of the guards spotted him and raised the alarm. Naked, injured, and alone he felt three arrows strike his back. Then... Nothing? He should be dead or at least captured. Instead, he was alone in... a very weird forest. “Where’s Gwynbleidd when you need him,” he grumbled.

Where Iorveth is should be a bigger question than where Gwynbleidd is. Finding another elf to help remove these arrows was, Iorveth shook his head, was... He started again, first step getting up, second finding help, removing these arrows himself would be bad. He would likely pass out from the pain at this point, and even if he didn’t he would still be helpless to stop himself from bleeding out.

He gritted his teeth and tried to get up again.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Roche’s feet hurt. How long has he been walking? It felt like hours. He grumbled as he looked around for any kind of landmark. These trees all looked the same. Everything was still the same, the trees the noise or more the lack of noise, that weird smell. And fuck he was pretty good at knowing how much time had passed, but, he paused squinting at the sky, but the sun was still in the same spot. That can’t be right. Where the fuck was he?

He was so busy staring at the sky that he almost missed the bloody elf on the ground.


	2. Arrow removal is not a fun time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iorveth's having a very bad day, (He'll feel better later)

Roche was stunned, to say the least. He hadn’t seen him since Flotscam, and the last he had heard Iorveth was in Upper Aedirn supporting Saskia’s Free State. What was he doing, well, wherever here was?

He wasn’t sure what he should do. He knew if he left now the elf would most likely die, and isn’t that what he had always been trying to do, but... Sigh. He knelt on the ground and took the elf's pulse. Still alive, well there’s that, and apparently unconscious as he hadn’t lost his hand. “Iorveth?” No reply. To check he placed his thumb above Iorveth’s remaining eye for twenty seconds, then jerked his hand back, as he heard a quiet pained groan. Well, I guess almost unconscious it seemed. As Iorveth didn’t seem ready to attack he kept going, checking his breathing, also good. 

Leaving him on his stomach for now, he took a look at the arrows stuck in him. ‘The lucky son of a bitch, none in the spine, none that struck organs, no signs of infection yet, not a ton of blood so probably they didn’t hit a major blood vessel, all the while not wearing armor or,’ Roche blushed it suddenly clicking in his head that the elf was naked. ‘Anyways arrows,’ he thought ‘one looked like it had lodged in his collarbone, one seemed to have gone all the way through on his side, and hit only skin and muscle, and the last one he was a little worried about, as it seemed to be lodged in a rib.

“Lucky son of a bitch” he repeated to himself. Taking a small knife out of his pocket he cut half of the arrow off, leaving the other half and the head inside.   
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Iorveth wakes to sharp pain above his eye. He lets out a pained groan, as he tries to figure out what’s going on. The pressure above his eye immediately ceases to his relief. “Iorveth?” He freezes, Roche, what was Roche doing here? This was not good. He felt the Dh’oine place his hand in front of his mouth, but then move it away. What was he doing? If he was going to kill him he should just get it over with already. “Lucky son of a bitch” 

He heard the unsheathing of a knife and braced for death. Instead, he heard the sound of the arrows breaking. Then a hand ran firmly down his spine starting at his skull, and going down to his tailbone. He heard Roche get up and start walking away, and relaxed, perhaps he would be left alone, all he had to do was figure out how to get up. Roche’s footsteps returned though, ‘fuck’, he thought. Then he was being slowly being lifted up, and being carried over to... somewhere else, why go through all this trouble to kill him, perhaps he wished to torture him first? Great, just great.

He felt himself being settling stomach down onto a cloth and felt Roche turn his head enough for him to breathe more easily. Then Roche started shuffling around, before putting something slimy on his wound. He hissed in pain, only for the human to hush him gently and start petting his hair of all things. Indigently he tried to jerk his head away, though he didn’t quite have the strength to do much. The bloede dh’oine seemed to get the point as he removed his hand from his hair, patting his uninjured shoulder once before getting back to whatever he’s trying to do. 

He feels the sharp point of the knife and the blunted edge of a metal something. The knife enters the wound. Iorveth screams with pain, instinctively panicking, and trying to jerk away. The human pins him down, swearing as he screams something in common but he’s too far gone to listen. As the knife and metal pierce his wound once more Iorveth finds himself thankful to be blacking out.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, I can’t do anything with him lying here. Roche looked around considering his options. Weird trees, weird trees, and even more of those fucking weird trees. He spotted a small safe-ish spot where the trees didn’t grow, and headed over there. His skin tingled less there at least. 

He took his coat off, and laid it out on the ground, emptying out his pockets of the supplies he needs, before stripping down to his undershirt then he started cutting his linen tunic up into strips of bandages. Settling his supplies out he nods. It’s a good thing he’s so used to an enemy that likes to fire arrows at him, he guesses with a snort. And starts to head back towards Iorveth.

He picked the elf up, starting to walk back frowning at how light he seemed. He would have thought that now that he wasn’t living in the trees, or wherever, that he wouldn’t be nearly as thin. And he didn’t what could be eaten, if anything, around here. He squinted at the trees trying to assess their edibility. Not quite that desperate yet. 

He set Iorveth down on his coat facedown, during this head to the side to let him breathe. He reaches for the rose honey, placing some on each wound to try to prevent infection. Iorveth hissed in pain. “I know, I know, it’ll be okay” Roche mutters under his breath. Instinctively he starts petting Iorveth’s hair. Iorveth tries to jerk his head away. Wait elves are weird about hair aren't they? Oops. He gives Iorveth’s uninjured shoulder a pat before getting back to his task.

‘This is gonna be the hard part.’ Roche thinks grimacing, all the while picking up his knife in one hand, and the special tongs in the other. He slowly sticks the knife in, prying open the wound, while holding the skin apart. Iorveth suddenly screams, thrashing about, jerking about like a bucking bull, jerking the knife out of the wound. Roche attempted desperately to hold him down, “Crazy-ass squirrel, I’m trying to fucking help you! Can you hold still for just a moment?” He tries to put the knife back in the wound, only to feel said crazy-ass squirrel go limp underneath him. “Well that answers that,” he mutters.

Starting again he slowly lowers the tongs into the wound, feeling for the end of the wound. Once he feels he’s hit something, he starts twisting the screw at the end of the tongs to grasp the arrow. Once he had it, he began to slowly pull the arrow out. He cleaned the wound with white wine, and used his former tunic, and bound the wound. With Iorveth unconscious the other two wounds went much smoother. Work done, he drank the last of the wine himself settling himself down next to Iorveth, closing his eyes, yawning, for... just... a... moment... Zzzzz


	3. Waking up & Honey medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up, and figuring out what to do

Iorveth woke suddenly, he hurt badly still, but something was different. He listened for a moment. He could hear the soft breathing of a sleeping dh’ione, but otherwise silence. Why couldn’t he hear anything else? That doesn’t make sense. He cautiously opened his eye and saw Roche. Wait... What? The world still didn’t make sense. He started to put his arms under him to get up, forgetting about his shoulder wound. A hiss of pain was enough to stir the sleeping human.

Staying completely still, he waited until the dh’ione’s breathing evened back out. With a breath of relief he pushed himself up. Nausea nearly sent him back to the ground. Closing his eye for a moment, he opened it as it mostly passed. Finally he was able to get a good look around at the... trees? ‘Beth, ble, o, wel fuck.’ He brought his hand to his face with a groan. 

Looking down he spotted the glint of metal in the grass. He picked one up. Arrows. He suddenly remembered how he got here. ‘Wel fuck’, he thought again. Roche must have been removing them. But why? I made no sense, Roche had no reason to save him. Well he’ll get no answers while the human was sleeping, but for some reason he didn’t move to wake him. 

Looking up he considered the trees scowling. It was probably a bad idea to climb them. He felt, well naked, more than literally. No bow, no swords, no knives, nothing to defend with if Roche changed his mind about killing him. He spotted Roche’s gambeson on the ground. “Well there’s a start.” He picked it up and slid it over himself, frowning at the evidence of their size differences, it was too short, as he was taller, and was too big, as he was leaner in size. He knew he had lost weight while captive, but... He didn’t like it being shoved in his face. 

As he was patting down his new clothes, lost in thought, he missed Roche getting up.

What? Feeling groggy Roche felt himself stir, trying to figure out what had woken him, but he couldn’t hear anything anymore. He didn’t want to get up. He was hungry, tired, and could feel himself drifting back to sleep.

Roche frowned. He could still hear someone moving about. Where was he? “Well there’s a start.” Wait Iorveth. Shit. He slowly cracked open his eyes. Iorveth was putting on his gambeson. Um, well at least he’s not naked anymore. As Iorveth was patting himself down, Roche quietly pulled himself to his feet. 

“Thought you squirrels only took clothes from the dead” He said sarcastically. Iorveth twirled around startled, and just stared. He stared back. 

“Well, usually I take them from dead dh’oine, but I could always fix that issue.”

Roche snorted, keeping his distance, he still had his knife, but only a fool engaged in hand-to-hand with an elf “Thought you were busy hiding behind the skirts of your human queen?” he said to more rile the other up than ‘cause he actually expected information. “What are you doing in the middle of who knows where looking more like a pincushion than anything else?”

Iorveth snarled at him stepping forward. “You will not speak of her like that”

He put his hands up “Fine, whatever elf. That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Go fuck the old man.”

“Umm... who?”

“Fucking dh’oine, the kayran”

“I think Geralt killed...him?”

“I’m aware.”

“Then...”

“Just shut up.” And with that Iorveth turned away from him. Roche noticed he was wincing and biting his lip in pain.

“Look I’ve got a herb mix to help with pain, trade you for the information, maybe between the two of us we can figure out where here is”

“What’s in it?”

“Beggertick, feverfew, and bloodwart, I think you elves call that one arrowroot ”

Iorveth looked up at the sky, which was turning dark. “Look at the sky”

“What about it.” Roche looked up and stared in horror “what?” 

“The stars are wrong, and we do not have three moons.”

“The portals, do you think a mage? No. That wouldn’t make sense why so many of them, unless something went wrong...” 

“A conjunction”

“That’s not possible, is it?” He was not panicking, he was not panicking, oh who was he kidding. He put his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

“That about sums it up, did you think the conjunction of the spheres was a one time thing? Our sages figured out right away that it would happen again,” the elf stopped his haughty rant, seeming pensive, “though it was not to be for some time.”

“Great, so, oh wise one, do you have a solution,” he put all of the sarcasm he could into his voice. His voice didn’t shake, not at all. (well maybe a little.) He sighed and rubbed his face.

Iorveth frowned looking away. “Do I look like a sage?”

“You look like shit” Roche said bluntly. “Gonna tell me what happened”

“I have just spent some days as the ‘welcome guest’” Roche did not know you could put some much venom in your voice, and considering his former profession, well he was a bit impressed. Not that he would say anything. “Of the so-called ‘Church of Eternal Fire’ and they are most ‘generous’ hosts.”

“And your pincushion look?”

“I escaped” Iorveth shrugged his good arm. “They didn’t like that”

“I can imagine”  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This Dh’ione was becoming annoying.“Why are you so curious?” 

“Why not, we’re both trapped in another world apparently, and if anything attacks us, we only have a single knife, and a single set of light armor between us, and you're injured, I don’t like those odds.” That’s fair, he guessed.

“Where’s your sword?”

“Pretty sure I dropped it. Hopefully before I got dragged through the portal, not between worlds, thankfully I still have some of my gear” Stupid dh’ione, at least he fought to keep his, not that it mattered in the end.

“Speaking of which, can I have those herbs.” The pain was getting worse, and he was starting to feel snappish.

“Oh yeah, sure.” That’s it? What...

He watched Roche pick up his surcoat, making a face at the new bloodstains. He still stuck it on, though. He then started to go through the pockets, till he seemed to find something, letting out a soft triumphant sound pulling out a

“Bloede Dh’ione, that’s candy.” 

The Dh’ione shrugged “took honey infused it with herbs and turned it into candy. Can be used with no other tools, like a pipe, or cup of water, and it doesn't give away your position like smoke would. Also keeps better than just shoving plants in your pocket.”

“Huh” He popped one into his mouth, and started sucking, hopefully it would actually work.

"So" Roche drawled.

"So?"

"We can't just stay here." 

"Why not," 

“Well, if there’s civilization anywhere on this world, I haven’t seen any in these woods.”

That is a good point, still, “And what do you plan to do once you find it? Conquer it on your own? I for one would not help you in such an endeavor.” He used his most haughty voice, it seemed to get his point across to most dh’ione.

Iorveth stepped back as Roche snarled at him “Get something to eat? See if they have a way back home? I don’t know, do you have a better plan? Or should we just lay down and die here, because the odds of someone finding us are, well” He seemed to deflate upon himself.

Iorveth frowned. That was, well, “No.”

“Do you want to come with, or should I leave you to the trees?” 

Iorveth paused, well better the bloede d'yaebl you know, “Why not”

Roche looks startled. “Well then.”

“Your idea, your lead,” Iorveth smirks.

“You just want to watch me fall on my ass.”

“That’s just a bonus, plus anything we find will eat you first.”

“Wonderful”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beth, ble, o, wel fuck- what, where, oh, well fuck   
> bloede d'yaebl- bloody devils

**Author's Note:**

> Dh’oine- human  
> A'baeth arse- kiss ass  
> bloede d'yaebl- bloody devils  
> pen y carraigh hurtyn- rock headed idiots/fools   
> Estë cadw me- Estë preserve me


End file.
